Date: 1765, 1770
"On Life's rough sea by stormy passions tost, / Freedom and Virtue were together lost."
preview | full record— Wodhull, Michael (1740-1816)
Date: 1766
"Should you but discompose the tide, / On which Ideas wont to ride, / Ferment it with a yeasty Storm, / Or with high Floods of Wine deform."
preview | full record— Lloyd, Evan (1734-1776)
Date: 1766
Melancholy may "cloud the sunshine of my chearful breast"
preview | full record— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)
Date: 1766
"Her tuneful tongue with eloquence and ease, / The golden merchandize of thought conveys; / Brisk fancy wafts it with her sprightly gales, / While judgment ballasts all the swelling sails."
preview | full record— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)
Date: 1767
"Instant my Sense return'd, restor'd and whole, / To re-possess its empire of the soul. / So, when o'er Phoebus low-hung clouds prevail, / Sleep on each hill, and sadden ev'ry dale; / Sudden, up-springing from the north, invades / A purging wind, which first disturbs the shades; / Thins the black...
preview | full record— Harte, Walter (1708/9-1774)
Date: 1767, 1784
"But if foul Passion, or distemper'd Pride, / Impede its search, or Phrenzy seize the brain, / Then Ignorance a gloomy darkness spreads, / Or Superstition, with mishapen forms, / Erects its savage empire in the mind."
preview | full record— Jago, Richard (1715-1781)
Date: 1771, 1776
"'The gusts of appetite, the clouds of care, / 'And storms of disappointment, all o'erpast, / 'Henceforth no earthly hope with heaven shall share / 'This heart, where peace serenely shines at last."
preview | full record— Beattie, James (1735-1803)
Date: 1771, 1776
"The mind untaught / 'Is a dark waste, where fiends and tempests howl; / 'As Phebus to the world, is Science to the soul."
preview | full record— Beattie, James (1735-1803)
Date: 1772, 1810
"He spoke: a sudden cloud his senses stole, / And thickening darkness swam o'er all his soul"
preview | full record— Jones, Sir William (1746-1794)
Date: 1772, 1810
"'I saw thee near the murmuring fountain lie; / 'Mark'd the rough storm that gather'd in thy breast, / 'And knew what care thy joyless soul opprest."
preview | full record— Jones, Sir William (1746-1794)